


An Old Rival, A New Friend~ Yuri Plisetsky x Reader Fic

by withering_rose



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: America, Arguing, Best Friends, Church Of The Spilled Blood, Dancing, Denial of Feelings, Different languages, F/M, How Do I Tag, Ice Skating, Instagram, Japan, Jealousy, Moscow, Moving On, Name-Calling, New York City, Nicknames, Pet Names, Punk Rock, Rivalry, Russia, St. Petersburg, Teasing, Third Wheel, third wheeling, translations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27481831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withering_rose/pseuds/withering_rose
Summary: When y/n, a teenage American figure skater, is going to her first international championship she intends to make friends, not enemies. Her best friend has other plans. When a 'joke' Instagram post reaches the eyes of Yuri Plisetsky, he doesn't see it that way. Years later things start to change, some for the better and others not so much.
Relationships: Yuri Plisetsky/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter One: The Post

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Yuri on Ice or any characters in the show. I have added random characters that are not apart of the show into the book that I own (Mack, Spara, Scott, Adam, and Freida).  
> P.S.  
> This is my first fic on AO3 but not my first one ever. If you guys have any tips or tricks I'd love to hear them! Also- I love to hear feedback so write a comment please and thank you! <3

I was in the finishing pose of the program I was skating. My left arm up in the air and my right wrapped around my body. Cheers roared from the people watching, roses and stuffed plushies landed on the ice from all around. As I finished picking the last of them up, I skated over to my coach Freida who was watching up close. After getting complimented by fellow skaters we eventually made our way to the Kiss and Cry to get my score. As we sat down there were cameras pointed to us from every direction and reporters behind each one, waiting to ask questions. After a short while, my score was finally announced...

_'208.5'_

My mind went blank, the next thing I remember was hugging and jumping with Freida. It was my personal best, I had gotten into the top four going to a larger competition, and on top of all that, I had placed first! After we were done with our small celebration I answered questions from the press and thanked those who congratulated me on my win. After what felt like days talking to people inside, which was really only an hour, I stepped outside and greeted my fans. Thousands of pictures and signatures later, my best friend and dorm mate, Mack came up to me squealing. 

"Oh my god, you did so well!' She screamed. 

I thanked her quickly as she pulled me to a backdrop and asked- _demanded-_ me to take off my jacket so I had my costume on in the picture. My costume was a white short skirt attached to a white one-shoulder leotard, which was a bejeweled and sparkling trail going from one side to the other in a cross-body design. My favorite part was when the lights would turn different colors, so would the gems on my costume. Both smiling and me holding up my metal, many pictures were taken and sent to our respectable phones. She took the liberty to post some of the photos on her Instagram, tagging me and adding more tags than I thought the app would allow. 

I was headed out again but this time for an international competition with some of the best skaters in the world. It seemed so unreal to me. But the reason behind that thought was probably because Yuri Plisetsky was in that competition. Not that we would be competing since we were in the same division, but I would still be skating on the same ice, and if God allows it, to actually meet him. 

I was snapped out of my thoughts by a small giggle and a simple "Aaaaand- done!" 

"What's that?" I inquire. 

"Oh, well the post of course! I just finished it." She laughed again. 

I laughed along with her. 

_Only Mack could take 20 minutes to write up a small Instagram post..._

Without thinking about it, we went out to dinner with some friends then flew back to America and our dorm in Xaviorous. 

Xaviorous was a prep/boarding school in New York City, New York. However, it wasn't just any school. It specialized in extracurricular activities such as sports, other athletics, drama/acting, music, foreign language, cooking, and anything other than actual academics. We still learned the core courses like math, English, history, science, and whatever else there was in regular school, but we were trained to be something more than just the same-old-same-old. 

I had some time before the Cup so I was able to fly back home to rest. I had taken time off my phone while we flew so the whole flight I just slept. The days after, I was practically hungover from pushing my body so hard that night. Not like it was different from the day after any other performance. It was quite a familiar feeling. But that was me in my life, y/n l/n who moved to New York without her family and has worked hard all her life. I've even forgotten what 'not trying' felt like. Since I moved here, I've been so engulfed in everything this school has to offer. I know four different languages, not counting English. I am trained in most, if not all, types of dance. I can play guitar, drums, and piano as well as being able to sing and act. Most people think of us as overachievers, but we have all grown so used to it by now that we only think of it as normal. 

As I grab my clothes and other things I need to change into before I start the day. On my way to me and Mack's shared bathroom, I grab my phone, after leaving it for a day or so, off the charger and start looking at my notifications. Lots of texts, calls, voice mails, emails, and DMs. After clearing and responding to everything else, I go to check my Instagram. I go through my DMs and find the name of someone in my requests that I never thought would ever be there. Yuri Plisetsky. 

He was one of the greatest male skaters out there, despite only being 15. He is on Team Russia and is coached by none other than Yavok Feltsman. He was only a year older than me and being attractive made a wide, clear path for me to crush on him. He was the self-proclaimed 'Ice Tiger of Russia' while most people call him the 'Russian Fairy'. Some even call him the 'Russian Punk'. 

After snapping out of my daydream and getting dressed I opened the message. It was a post of me and Mack posing behind the backdrop with the next message stating _"ты, сука"_

What does that even mean?

I didn't even bother to look into the post he sent, though, I probably should've. It's a good thing that google translate is available because, although it is one of the languages on my 'want to learn list', I have yet to learn Russian. I copy and paste the phrase into Translate and the result startled me:

_You're on, bitch_

That was not the response I wanted, especially on a picture of me. What did the post even say? That was when it was time to do some investigating. I went back to the message and clicked on the post. _Mack's post... of course, it was._ She tagged the rink where I skated as well as me and Freida. I didn't see anything wrong with the post. That was until I read her caption. 

_My favorite girl just won first in Moscow and is going to be at the Rostelecom Cup!!!!! @Yuri_Plisetsky even if she might not be in the same division, she's sure to get a better score, you can count on that!_

  
It was then followed by hundreds of hashtags that I didn't bother to read. 

She challenged Yuri Plisetsky, a Russian figure skater who is a million times better than me and doesn't even have the decency to tell me. Sometimes a question our friendship because of these stupid things she pulls. 

"Mack!" I practically screech down the hall while she was talking to some underclassmen a few feet down. 

"Oh, you're awake!" She smiled and waved. 

As I stormed closer, she could see my livid expression.

"And I'm guessing you saw my post, huh?" She rubbed the back of her neck with her hand until I grabbed a fistful of her shirt bringing her face to face with me. 

"Do you even remotely know what you have done?" I seeth through clenched teeth. 


	2. Chapter Two: Practice practice practice...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dual-sided POV chapter after the interaction between the 'Ice Tiger of Russia' and our beloved "сука" according to Yuri. What do you do after you are challenged by a skater in the opposite bracket? You practice.

I finally let Mack go after about thirty minutes of scolding and yelling in the dorm hallway.

"Hey! I'm sorry! I didn't think you would be this mad... I didn't think he'd see it either..." The last part she mumbled.

"And I bet you didn't think he'd do anything about it either, huh," I state flatly.

"Exactly!" I simply stare at her.

"Okay, so let's take the next step of action." She claims cheerfully.

"Which is...?" I question.

"Practice! You want to beat him, don't you?"

"No, I don't! If I did I would've done it myself!" I practically scream.

"That makes a lot of sense..."

"Ya think?"

"Alright," Mack straightens herself up and starts walking to our shared dorm. "If you want to come even close to beating him, you need to get to work."

She continues to talk and enter the room while rummaging through my things. She begins to pick up one of my skating outfits, her iPod, both our skates and a costume magazine I had lying around from past programs.

"Look alive girly, we have a lot to do." She finishes while handing me my things.

\----------

\-------

\-----

\---

"Who does she think she is?! Having her friend challenge me instead of doing it herself?! Stupid!" A thick Russian accent laces the voice shouting in the quiet area.

"Now now Yurio, no need to get so worked up." Another Russian accent fills the space, but this one is gentler.

"заткнись, старик (Shut up, old man)" The first voice spits.

"Yurio- Viktor! Don't shout! This is a quiet area, and you're drawing unwanted attention!" A small voice whispered eagerly.

"Ah, sorry Yuuri," The famous skater, now coach, apologized quickly.

"Tch" what the only thing that came out of the Russian teen's mouth.

After about fifteen minutes Yuri pulled out his phone and called the one person he knew he could count on. The phone rang for half a minute until the person on the other side answered.

"Здравствуйте? (Hello?)"

"Otabek"

\---------

\-------

\-----

\---

"Okay, so, let me get this straight. Mack's post reached the eyes of Yuri Plisetsky, and he agreed to the challenge she made up without your consent and now you need to beat him or get a score really close to his so you don't get humiliated." Spara spoke softly.

Spara has been my rink mate since I don't even know when. Her long blonde hair reaches all the way past her bottom and never seems to be a mess (Which I am very jealous of). And she is always so soft-spoken and sweet. Why would anyone hate Spara?

"Yes," I breathe.

"Fine, let's get started then."

She grabs her phone and opens up a fan blog made by one of Yuri's Angels.

"It says here that his highest score was 319.53 which surpassed Viktor's score when he used to skate. So you would have to get close to that score in order to be anywhere near his level."

"319? That's way higher than I've ever scored, or anyone I really know for that matter. I've surpassed everyone's score here at school but my total has never been that high!"

"Well, then what has your highest score been?" Spara asked calmly.

"283.41" I state, "It's not that far but still."

"That is about 40 points or so, which isn't that bad, honestly." She thinks to herself for a moment, nods, then continue to search through her phone.

"What are you trying to find?" I ask after a few minutes of silence between us.

More silence.

"Fine, I'll get on the ice and start warming up. Talk to me when you're ready." I say as I walk towards the bench with my skates and bag.

Spara is usually silent, but never really ignores people. So if anything I just need to let her be and she'll help me out. The reason we are always helping each other is that we are constantly in debt to the other. I help her she helps me, she helps me later I help her. It is an endless cycle and we actually do it unconsciously. But this is a debt I can't pay back as easily. Spara hurt her ankle in a skating accident a year or so ago which can only leave her to certain sports that don't involve using the ankles a ton. Kind of like field hockey. She is not affected by running but only when she has to have major control of her ankles, like dance. I had finished warming up faster than I thought and started to play around with some different choreography that could go with different songs.

"I found what you need if you are brave enough to try." She calls out.

Her voice had startled me since she hadn't uttered a word for the past half-hour, but I skated over to the side of the rink where she was standing.

"A quadruple lutz." Was the only thing she said, and the only thing she needed to before I started to leave.

"Where are you going y/n?" She asked almost exasperatedly.

"Away. I'm not doing a quad lutz." I spat back at her, "You remember what happened last time."

_I had been attempting a quad lutz a few months ago before the competitions because I had this boost of confidence which I didn't think was possible. After another failed attempt, Scott called out to me to 'just give up'._

_"One more time!" I called back._

_I'm not giving up that easy._

_Once again the familiar sensation of doing laps around the rink came back to me as I prepared to make the jump again. I got up to the speed I needed and pushed myself off the ground to do the lutz. The jump itself was pretty easy once you got the hang of it, but that was not the case with many skaters. For a quad lutz, you would need to get high enough off the ground to make even a triple, then get enough rotations in to make it a quad._

_I gave up on every other sense and felt myself make the rotations as I was in the air._

_...One..._

_...Two..._

_...Three..._

_...FOUR!_

_As soon I made the last rotation I had to switch gears and land._

_With a small stumble, I was able to not fall flat on my face or bum (Which was a miracle in my book). As I brought myself to the side of the rink where Scott was standing, jaw-slacked, and awestruck._

_"I told you I could land it," I said completely out of breath._

_"That was... totally idiotic and stupid! You could've really hurt yourself doing that!"_

_"I could've, but I didn't. And now that I have proved you wrong, I'm going to get ice cream." I smirk while taking off my skates._

_Scott continues to ramble on about how that was reckless and dangerous yet doesn't do anything else about it. If he was so worried, he would've come out onto the ice and stopped me, but here we are, uninjured and unscratched... kinda._

_The next few days went by fine until I notice a slight pinch in my left ankle. I finally consulted Scott who consulted a doctor who explained to us that I had just overworked it and needed to use heat on it after practice to loosen the muscles, otherwise I was fine to keep going._

_Later Freida (my coach) found out and scolded both of us for being careless, but we were all thankful it wasn't something major that would affect the competition. Nothing happened but it was a big scare. The three of us vowed to never let me try a quadruple lutz until we all agreed I was ready._

"Yeah, not doing that," I repeat to myself again. 

"Y/n, please. The only way to get yourself close enough to his score is to put the jump in." She tried again.

"Ok, yes, I have done the jump once, but I risked my whole career on that one jump. Plus- what if I actually hurt myself during practice?" I argue back.

"All you need to do is change your lone triple lutz to a quad and you could possibly even win this!" She defends.

I stop to think, leaving us both in silence like before. Weighing the options, I come up with a solution. 

"I will do the jump but I can't promise you that I will land it..." I confess. 

Enough words were said and the silence was the only thing that could convey the emotion. After that, we set off to work. 

\---------

\-------

\-----

\---

_'I've done it before... Why can't I land it?'_ Was the only thing the blonde teen could think while he prepared to make the jump again. 

"Yura," Otabeks voice brings me out of my thoughts, "На сегодня хватит. (Enough for today)."

"нет. (No.)" He replies with a pant.

"да. (Yes.)" The older says back. 

"Мне нужно продолжать. (I need to keep going/I need to continue)." He spits while he begins to attempt the jump.

As soon as he is in the air he lands with a stumble onto the ice, obviously exhausted. The last time he had been like this was when he trained to beat Yuuri Katsuki. 

"Вы будете переутомляться. Стоп. (You are going to be overworked. Stop.)" Otabek warned.

Reluctantly, the teen gives up. He skates from the middle of the rink to the opening where the carpet meets the ice. After a small warm down and taking off his skates, and begins to take his leave. But before he could walk out the door, Otabek grabbed him by the shoulder. 

"Не зацикливайтесь на этом. (Don't get hung up on this)" He warned, "Это просто какой-то тупой американец. (It's just some dumb American.)"

Yuri nods in responce. It was true, to their knowledge at least. Given, most people from America are stupid. And Canada. Like JJ. 

"Yura" 

\---------

"Y/n"

\--------

"Выиграй это. (Win this.)"

\--------

"Win this."


End file.
